


Like the Tide

by Thegreatsnotdragon



Series: The Epic Untitled Love Story [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A bit of a lady and the tramp situation, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Balthazar is a douchecanoe, Boys Kissing, But oh there are complications, But with no lady, Cas is kind of stand-offish, Cause they're both guys, Cuddling, Dean might have a crush, Falling In Love, First Meetings, How will it go?, Humor, I feel like I probably didn't need to explain that..., Lots of Nakedness, Lots of tingly feelings, M/M, Sam is a really good brother, This story is really hard to tag, Very light literary references, Whirlwind Romance, i love that word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 07:51:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thegreatsnotdragon/pseuds/Thegreatsnotdragon
Summary: Dean takes a week off to go visit Sam at Stanford, and while he's there, he gets to meet Sam's friends, one of whom is a snarky, glasses wearing, pretentious asshat with crazy hair. Who Dean really wants to kiss.(This can be read as a standalone)





	Like the Tide

“Look Sammy, if you want to hang out with your friends you can just say so. I don’t expect you to drop everything because I decided to come.”

“No Dean, the reason I asked if you want to meet my friends is because I genuinely want you to meet my friends, but you can say no, it’s fine.”

The slightly dejected look on Sam’s face makes guilt curdle up in Dean’s stomach. _Man_ he can be an ass sometimes. But in his defense, why would Sam want to introduce his high school dropout, mechanic brother to a bunch of snooty Stanford students?

He’s pretty sure he’s signing himself up for a miserable fucking night when he agrees, but fuck, Sam brought out the goddamn puppy eyes.

 

Sam and his friends apparently hang out in coffee shops. And Dean’s not a coffee shop guy, because really, the only real difference between a coffee shop and a diner is that you’ll find more pretentious people in a coffee shop.

“Hey guys!” Sam calls as they’re nearing the table. The very crowded table. “This is my brother Dean. Dean, this is Victor, Kevin, Garth, Cas and Balthazar.”

“Castiel.” A deep voice corrects, and Dean’s eyes are immediately drawn to its owner.

He’s about Sam’s age, and honestly goddamn fucking beautiful. He looks back at Dean with a bored, disinterested look on his face. His eyes are insanely blue and framed by these roundish black rimmed glasses. And he’s wearing a snug black turtleneck. This guy is pretty much spot on what Dean was picturing when imagining Sam’s Stanford friends. Well not the ridiculously hot part, but basically everything else. He’s practically got snootiness oozing out of his pores.

“Uh right...” Dean says, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you man.”

Castiel takes Dean’s hand and shakes it without even an attempt at anything resembling openness.

Dean tears his eyes away, as he and Sam take their seats, and Dean introduces himself to all the others. Victor and Kevin seem alright enough. Garth seems weird and overly friendly. Balthazar seems like a smarmy douche. With a very deep v-neck.

“So Dean,” Victor begins in a deep calm voice. “Sam talks about you a lot. I think he said you’re a mechanic?”

“Uh yeah, I am.” Dean says.. “‘Cars break, I fix em, real exciting stuff.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Dean’s allergic to anything even remotely resembling a compliment.”

“I see.” Victor says, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.

“Nah. I just don’t like to pretend to be more than I am. ”

Sam opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted when the waitress arrives and starts taking orders. Dean orders a black coffee and a slice of apple pie. When she leaves Dean figures he better strike fast and change the subject, seeing as he really doesn’t want to regale these people with tales of the day to day life of a mechanic.

“Do you guys study law like Sammy?” He asks, directing his question at everyone.

Victor nods. “Me and Kevin do, but Garth-”

“Is a philosophy major.” Garth finishes cheerfully.

“And Cassie and I are both English Lit.” Balthazar says.

Castiel is staring down at his cup of tea, seemingly paying no attention to the people around him. His hair is sticking up like he got out bed without taking one glance in the mirror, and his glasses are sliding down his nose.

Balthazar seems to notice the direction of Dean’s gaze and leers. “Oh don’t mind Cassie, he’s just a little daydreamer, aren’t you darling?”

Are they a couple?

Castiel looks up at being spoken directly to, almost as if he’d forgotten there were people around him, and fixes Balthazar with a look of annoyance. “Do you need something?”

“I need to know what’s rolling around that pretty little head of yours.” Balthazar says, leaning into Castiel’s space.

It really rubs Dean the wrong way, for some unknown reason. Okay that’s a lie, he totally knows the reason.

“I’m thinking about my Harper Lee essay, if you must know.” Castiel says dismissively, lifting his cup and taking a sip. “I’m getting absolutely nowhere. And before you ask; no, I don’t want your help.”

Balthazar places his hand over his heart and looks directly at Dean. “See how he rejects me?” he says in a playfully wounded voice. “He’s as gay as they come but blankly refuses to give me the time of day.”

At this revelation Castiel’s eyes flit to Dean’s face with a look that’s almost challenging, like he’s expecting Dean to quote the bible at him or something. Fuck him. Dean doesn’t need a reminder that he probably looks like an uneducated hick to these people.

Dean just holds the contact, until Castiel realises he’s not going to react, and his eyes drop. But in the brief, brief moment Dean held his interest, he couldn’t help but notice how that gaze was really clear and intelligent. And condescending.

“The fact that I’m gay doesn’t mean I’m obligated to want every man who shows interest in me Balthazar.” Castiel says, pushing his glasses up in a swift, elegant motion.

“Tough break.” Dean says, giving Balthazar a half smile. “Plenty of other fish in the sea though.”

“Yes very true, very true.” Balthazar says, giving Dean a once over. “Speaking of other fish, you are quite the specimen Dean.”

The whole table collectively groans, apart from Castiel who just rolls his eyes dismissively. Dean should really stop focusing on him.

“Dean, as your brother I feel it’s my duty to advice you not to sleep with Balthazar.” Sam says. “And if you do I’ll have to disown you.”

Dean laughs at that, and so does the rest of the table, even Castiel, resident sourpuss, smiles reluctantly. And yes, again, Dean should really _stop_ focusing on him.

“Yeah sorry buddy, not interested.”

He would feel at least a little bad about turning him down, but despite the way Balthazar is blatantly flirting with him, Dean’s pretty sure he just thinks it would be fun to have a roll in the hay with a hot blue collar dude or something.

“Alas, such is my lot.” Balthazar sighs. “This shall be one of those nights when I end up snuggling Garth out of loneliness.”

Why the fuck does he talk like that? Dean’s pretty fucking sure that’s not what all british people sound like. Does majoring in English literature mean you have to speak like a Shakespeare character?

Victor asks Sam a question about an assignment which leads to a discussion about some lecture (Dean understands about half of it, because of all the law terms) which leads to a discussion about morality, which somehow leads to a discussion about _Crime and Punishment_. Yeah, this is pretty much what Dean was expecting from a night of hanging out with Stanford students.

Castiel is pulled from his state of seemingly perpetual boredom by this subject, and is engaging in a heated debate with Sam, and Garth. Kevin looks on with an engaged expression, while Victor and Balthazar just look bored.

Castiel’s whole face changes when he’s passionate about something, this spark sort of ignites in his eyes and his cheeks flush with color. And he gestures with his hands while he talks, his long slender fingers trailing through the air in dramatic fluid motions. Yeah, if Dean was having trouble not watching him before, it’s nothing compared to now.

“Dean, don’t you agree?” Sam says, bumping Dean’s side with his elbow.

Suddenly all the eyes are on him, and Dean has no friggin clue what Sam’s asking him. Because maybe he was sort of distracted by blue eyes and messy hair, and completely zoned out like an idiot.

“Uh… I don’t know man, that book’s fucking boring as hell.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “You think that _Crime and Punishment_ is boring?”

Dean shrugs and meets his stare, sensing a challenge. “Yeah.”

Castiel looks like he’s going to say something in protest, but then seems to decide it’s not worth his time. “I suppose some of the themes can be hard to grasp.” He says, turning his attention back to the others.

Dean may not have gotten into Stanford but he’s not so thick that he can’t pick up on when he’s being called an idiot. Even if it’s said in snooty, pretentious asshole speak.

“Nah man, the theme’s not the problem. It’s the writing, so fucking slow.” He says.

Castiel looks at him again, and opens his mouth, but Balthazar beats him to it.

“Dean, you do realise that Crime and Punishment is regarded as one of the greatest literary works of all time do you not?” There’s no mistaking the condescension in his voice.

Dean rolls his eyes at him. “Yeah I know _Balthazar_.”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean about it being too slow, it’s Dostoevsky, not a Harrison Ford movie darling. But I suppose the classic’s aren’t for everyone.”

Dean sees Castiel duck his head down to hide a smile at Balthazar’s comment.

“Just cause it’s a classic doesn’t mean it has to be boring. It’s not like it’s a rule, _darling._ ”

“Well I’m sure dear Fyodor would have trembled in his boots at such harsh criticism from a man licensed to perform automotive repairs.”

Yeah, if Dean’s not careful, he might end up punching this asshole.

Luckily; Victor sweeps in then. “Balthazar, I know you come from a family of scholars, so this might come as a surprise to you, but you don’t actually need a degree to have original thoughts.”

Okay so it’s official, Victor is kind of cool.

The air around the table has gotten pretty tense, and Dean feels kind of bad, like everyone’s having a shit time because of him. Kevin and Garth look uncomfortable, Castiel is sipping his tea, looking only mildly interested in what’s going on.

“You know what Balthazar?” Sam starts in a tense voice. “Not everyone can afford to go to college.”

“Sammy don’t bother, it’s fine.” Dean says, still annoyed but wanting to diffuse the situation. “I have no idea what he said anyway, he uses too many big words.”

Sam shoots him an angry and unimpressed look. “Hilarious.”

“Yeah I know. I’m fucking hilarious.” He smirks at his little brother.

Sam glares in annoyance but deflates. “Fine.” He says, shooting one last pissed off glance at Balthazar.

“New subject anyone?” Garth suggests. “Wait I know, has anyone seen that new Paul Verhoeven movie? About the cop who’s like half robot?”

And as Garth and Kevin make plans to rent Robocop on Friday, Castiel starts to get out of his seat. “I need a smoke.” He says, and then; turning to Balthazar. “You coming?”

“No darling, I’m trying to quit, remember?”

Castiel rolls his eyes and stands up. “Whatever.”

“I’ll come.” Dean says, and gets up to follow him.

Sam shoots him a puzzled look, because they both know very well that Dean doesn’t smoke. Castiel just shrugs and leads the way out the door.

Once on the sidewalk Castiel fishes a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket, and lights it. He puts it to his lips and stares out into the street, effectively ignoring Dean completely.

“You know, those are really bad for you.” Dean says.

Castiel turns toward him and regards him for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Wow I had no idea. Why did you come out here if you don’t even smoke?”

 _The company._ “Fresh air.”

Castiel lets out some small noise of acknowledgement before turning his gaze back to the darkened street. What the fuck is so interesting out there?

Acting on impulse, he steps closer until he’s practically in Castiel’s space, and then reaches his hand out and snatches the lit cigarette from between his lips.

“What _the_ _hell_ is your problem!?” Castiel asks in a stunned and annoyed voice as Dean drops the cigarette on the ground, and puts it out with his right foot.

Without saying a word, Dean moves even closer and reaches up to place one hand on either side of Castiel’s face. There’s a sharp intake of breath, and for the first time tonight, Dean’s pretty sure Castiel is _actually_ looking at him. He looks straight into those blue eyes, and it’s like the shock of Dean being so forward has caused a crack in the facade, because Castiel’s eyes are wide and vulnerable. He looks back at Dean who has him trapped, and the seconds tick on as Dean waits for him to pull away. And when it doesn’t happen he drifts just a little closer,and raises his eyebrows in a silent request. Hesitation is written plain across Castiel’s features, apprehension shining in his eyes. He stares at Dean silently for a drawn out moment, as if he can’t make up his mind.

“Okay.” He says finally, in a voice that’s barely above a whisper.

That’s all Dean needs. And he closes that last bit of distance between their faces, pressing his lips down on Castiel’s softly. Castiel’s lips are soft and dry, and move against Dean’s hesitantly. It takes  few seconds before the tension bleeds out of his frame, but then he relaxes and kisses back with more eagerness. And as far as first kisses go… _Fucking hell_. The butterflies in Dean’s stomach sort of melt into this tingling warmth that spreads throughout his entire body, making his skin prickle with sensitivity. He feels like he can’t get close enough, and goosebumps sprout over his skin when Castiel’s arms wrap around him. He wants to bury himself in the warmth emanating from the other boy’s body. He licks into Castiel’s mouth and is rewarded with a soft moan that just about drives him crazy. His hands wind their way up Castiel’s back, finger’s raking across his shoulder blade. The kiss goes on, slow and deep, until Dean has to pull away, because he’s starting to get lightheaded.

“Holy shit.” He murmurs, leaning up against the wall of the coffee shop and tilting his head up, sucking in a big gulp of air. The sky overhead is dark and littered with stars.

“We should go back inside.” That raspy voice says.

Dean looks up to see blue eyes fixed on him.

Castiel’s demeanor has really changed from what it was just some minutes before. He almost looks… _Shy_ or something. Which is a little weird considering he just had his tongue in Dean’s mouth but hey, people are weird.

“You haven’t even had your smoke.” Dean says.

“Right.” Castiel’s hand moves towards his pocket and then stills. “I’ll have it later.”

He goes toward the door, and Dean follows. It’s only as they’re approaching the table that Dean remembers to straighten his clothes and make sure everything is in the right place, lest he looks like he’s just been making out with someone. He sees Sam’s hazel eyes follow the action. Then they flit from Dean to Castiel, who has a noticeable flush in his cheeks, more apparent under the bright lights, and back to Dean again, widening in understanding. He shoots Dean a penetrating look as if to say _really?_ Dean can’t help but smirk in response, and Sam rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The night goes on, and when it comes to an end Dean can honestly say he’s been pleasantly surprised by a most of  Sam’s friends. Victor’s awesome, Kevin and Garth kinda are too. Balthazar is a total dick and Castiel is… Well, a really good kisser. For the whole remainder of the night, he’s been sneaking quick little glances at Dean, and Dean’s pretty sure he’s intentionally lingering after all the others have filtered out. As soon as Sam leaves to go to the bathroom before they head back, Dean takes the opportunity to move to one of the chairs closer to him.

“So uh… I’m only here for five more days. I’ll be heading back home to Kansas on Sunday.”

“Okay..?” Castiel replies, tilting his head to the side and giving Dean a puzzled look.

Dean smiles at the gesture. It’s kind of cute, makes him look sort of like a confused kitten. “But while I’m here we could… Y’know, get to know each other... If you’re into that I mean.”

Cas looks him over, and it makes Dean feel strangely squirmy. Like he’s being appraised or something.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Dean feels smile spreading over his face.

“That’s what I said isn’t it?” Castiel’s tone is cool and unaffected, but Dean’s pretty sure there’s a pink tint in his cheeks. “I’d better go.” He starts to get out of his seat.

“Wait, so are you free tomorrow?”

“Oh, I… Yes I suppose so. I have classes until four but then…”

“Great, where should we meet?”

“I live on campus, so I guess… We could meet there. Do you know where it is?”

They decide to meet by the angel statue in the middle of campus at four fifteen, that way it’ll be easy to find each other.

“Right.”  Dean says and does a quick scan of the coffee shop, just to make sure there are no homophobic looking, violence prone men watching them or something, and then leans in to press the swiftest, lightest of kisses to Castiel’s lips. “See you around.”

And that right there is an honest to God blush. Dean’s not gonna lie, he’s feeling pretty smug about it.

“Goodbye.” Castiel says, and swiftly gets out of his chair, before going out the door, holding his jacket in his right hand.

Dean smiles as he watches his retreating figure, before being distracted by Sam who’s back from the bathroom and looking at him with some combination of amusement and irritation. Dean smiles widely at him and gets out of his seat. They go for the door together.

“I don’t even want to know how you did it.” Sam says.

“You sure? I’d be happy to give you some pointers.”

“Funny. But seriously Dean, what the hell? I bring you to meet my friends and within like two hours you’ve managed to stick your tongue down one of their throats?”

“What can I say, when I want something I go after it.”

“Clearly.” Sam mutters, and then stops dead in his tracks on the curb and groans. “ _Oh God_! You’re gonna sleep with him aren’t you?!”

“Uh _yeah_ , that’s kinda the plan.”  Dean says, stepping out into the street to go to the Impalas driver’s seat.

“Oh God.” Sam groans again, opening the door on the passenger side and sliding in.

Once they’re inside the car Dean turns to look at his little brother, trying to gauge whether he’s actually upset about this.

“You know I don’t _have to_ sleep with him.” He doesn’t have to, but he really, _really_ wants to. “I mean, if you feel like it would mess up your friendship or something...”

“No Dean it’s fine, sleep with him.”

“You sure? Cause- _"_

“Yes Dean I’m sure.”

“So you’re not gonna get all pissy about it if-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I said sleep with him, so just sleep with him!”

“Jeez okay. Didn’t realise you felt so strongly about this.”

Sam shoots him an annoyed look. “Just drive jerk.”

“Whatever you say bitch.”

 

They get to Sam’s apartment, and find that Jess has already gone to bed. Dean gets settled on the couch in his blankets, and Sam comes out to say goodnight.

“So did you have an okay time at least? I mean besides the making out with Cas.”

Sam’s tone is casual, but Dean senses that he’s trying to cover up how much he actually cares.

“Yeah Sammy, I had a good time. You got some pretty awesome friends. That Balthazar’s an ass though.”

Sam winces. “Yeah sorry. I’ve never really seen that side of him before.”

“It’s ok, really. No harm, no foul. Night Sammy.”

Sam hesitates for a second like he wants to say something else, but then he just reaches out and flicks the light switch, plunging the room in darkness. “Night Dean.”

 

He gets up early the next morning to have breakfast with Sam and Jess. It’s really weird and nice to see what a domestic little situation they’ve got going for themselves.

“So Sam tells me you made a little love connection last night. And that you’ve got a date tonight.” Jess says, smiling as she sips her orange juice.

“Don’t know about love connection, more like-”

“Don’t say it.” Sam warns.

Dean smirks. “Fine. Let’s just call it a connection, but I can’t exactly be starting something when I’m only here for a few days.”

“Well, nothing wrong with a little fling.” Jess says thoughtfully, having another bite of her eggs.

“ _That_ ,” Dean says. “Is exactly what I think.”

 

“So is this where the magic happens?” He asks, standing on the threshold of Castiel’s dorm room.

“Hardly. More like a lot of studying, and occasional tearing my hair out in frustration.” Castiel says, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking up at Dean.

“You saying I’m the first boy you’ve ever brought here?” He can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

“None of your business.”

A moment passes where they just look at each other, and Castiel’s eyes are slightly narrowed, like he’s not sure what to make of Dean. “I’m not just going to sleep with you.”

“Okay..?”

Castiel stands up and crosses his arms defensively. “Because I don’t do that.”

“Sleep with strange men you mean?” Dean says, and his smile seems to relax Cas slightly.

“Yes that.”

“Look,” Dean says, moving into his space. “Not gonna lie, I’d really love to get you naked but I’m not some mustache twirling villain okay? We could just take things slow, get to know each other,  no pressure, no expectations.”

Cas watches Dean come closer with wide eyes, and Dean watches his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

“That sounds… Okay.”

“Good.” Dean says, now close enough to reach out and touch. “We could just start with something…” He lets his face hover just inches from Cas’s and murmurs; “Like this.” Right before their lips meet.

And it’s even better than it was yesterday, if that’s possible.

 

Turns out that despite his words, getting Cas naked is kind of easy. Less than two hours later their clothes are littered across the floor and wow is Dean really grateful that Cas doesn’t have a roommate.

“That- _Oh God_ ,” Cas gasps while Dean ruts against him. “That feels _so good_.”

“Good,” Dean says, pressing soft kisses on the flushed skin on Cas’s neck. “How do you want to..? I mean, do you have like-?

“No,” Cas says breathlessly. “I mean, I do but… like this,” He rolls his hips again, drawing a soft groan from Dean’s lips. “I don’t want- Like this, just like this.”

Dean takes his meaning and obliges, and they proceed to ruthlessly roll their hips together, rutting like horny teenagers until they tumble over the edge, one after the other. And Cas moaning as he comes is maybe the hottest thing Dean has ever seen.

Cas wipes them off with his rumpled up underwear and then they lie in peaceful silence for a few minutes, until Dean decides to break it.

“So turns out you do sleep with strange men.”

Castiel groans and lets his face fall down into his pillow. Then he turns his head and sort of peers at Dean, his blue eyes bright and almost bashful. “I can’t actually believe I just did that. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

His hair looks legitimately crazy. It’s at like mad scientist level messy, and Dean kind of can’t get enough. He reaches out and runs his fingers through it, trying to mess it up even more.

“You had a good time right?”

“Yes.”

“So you got nothing to feel bad about.”

Cas smiles then, this small, warm smile. It’s weird, such a far cry from the guy he met last night. Or maybe what’s different is just how Dean’s getting to see him now. Yesterday he was on the outside, not worth Castiel’s time or attention, and now he’s on the inside. Maybe because he demanded Cas’s attention or maybe because he’s got something to offer, who cares. There’s no future here, so Dean doesn’t need the answer.

Castiel edges closer and hesitantly place his lips against Dean’s. Dean responds by licking the seam of his mouth, and wrapping his arms around him. There’s something about this guy that makes it fucking impossible for Dean to stop touching him, even when he’s just had an orgasm. Something that seems to pulsate through the air between them when he looks into those blue eyes. And when they’re touching he’s not thinking about how he only has a few more days before he needs to go back to Lawrence, because right now nothing exists besides him and Cas. And it’s a good thing he’s not thinking about it, because then he’d be worried about getting in too deep.

 

“So who’s your favorite writer?” Dean asks, trailing his fingers across the smooth pale planes on Cas’s back.

“Hemingway.” Cas answers automatically.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Right, but who is it really?”

“Why would I lie?”

“What’s the answer you’d give if you weren’t trying to impress someone?”

There’s a moment of silence. “Tolkien.”

“Aw, you’re a closet geek.”

“Shut up.”

“No come on, it’s really cute.”

“You have to tell me yours now. I’m guessing it’s not Dostoevsky.”

“It’s Vonnegut.”

“Oh. That’s really interesting.” Cas says, in a mildly surprised tone.

“Well that’s me.” Dean says, kissing his way up Castiel’s back. “Just a really interesting guy.”

He reaches Cas’s shoulder and nips lightly at the skin with his teeth. Cas moans softly and turns around on the mattress, dragging Dean down into an embrace. And after that there’s a pretty significant lull in conversation.

 

“You have so many freckles.” Cas marvels, situated with his head on Dean’s chest.

Dean just _hmm_ s softly in affirmation. He feels soft fingers trail across his chest and stomach, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.”

“I always wanted freckles when I was little.”Cas continues, speaking in this unguarded relaxed voice, like he’s barely processing the words coming out of his mouth. “Freckles and red hair.”

Dean can’t _not_ laugh at that. “Why the hell would you want that?” He gets out.

“I wanted to look like Anne of Green Gables.” Cas replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Dean laughs so hard his eyes start to water. “Man you’re really weird.”

He gets this image in his head of Cas, this little boy with huge blue eyes and crazy hair, curled up in an armchair, completely enraptured as he stares down at a copy of Anne of Green Gables. Fuck that’s so adorable.

“I’m not weird. I’m original” Cas responds, and Dean feels the air punch out of his stomach as Cas climbs on top of him.

“Whatever you say Anne.”

 

It’s about eight pm, they’re sitting up in bed, and Cas’s palm is placed in Dean’s lap.

“Okay so this line here means that you’ll probably have great success in your early career and- _Oh no_ ,” He traces a smaller line in with his hand. “You see this line that crosses it? That means you’ll be bankrupt by forty.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “You’re just making this up aren’t you?”

“How _dare_ you?” Dean asks in mock outrage, trying to keep from smiling, tracing another line. “See this here means that you’ll be married three times, and _this line_ ,” he touches a line that intersects with it, “Tells us that your death will be at the hands of your third husband.”

“I didn’t know palm readings were so detailed.”

“Yeah they’re usually not, but I’m a pro so…”

Castiel looks like he’s trying really hard not to laugh. “So what’s my third husband’s name?”

Dean holds his fingers up to his temples. “One second.” He closes his eyes and schools his expression into one of deep concentration for about five seconds making a low _omm_ ing sound, then opens his eyes and cracks a smile. “The spirits tell me it’s Ivan.”

“Ivan?”  Cas says, the corners of his lips really twitching.

“Yeah, Ivan, he’s a russian boxer. Great hair, really strong thighs.”

“And he’s gonna murder me?”

“Yep.”

Cas lies back down, and holds his hand out like he wants Dean to come closer.

Dean lies down next to him and Cas takes Dean’s hand in his own, and turns it around to look at the palm.

“You gonna read mine now?”

“No.” Cas says, but he does trace the lines with his fingers. “I’d like to... “ He turns his head and looks at Dean, eyes alight with sincerity and vulnerability. “I’d like to spend more time with you, before you go back home.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Cas smiles a tiny smile, and his fingers keep trailing over Dean’s palm softly. “So why does Ivan kill me?”

Dean leans over and presses a kiss to his collarbone. “For your fortune.”

“I thought I was bankrupt.”

“You are.” Dean presses his lips down again and then in a stage whisper he adds; “ _But Ivan doesn’t know that_.”

That’s apparently the last straw and Cas bursts out into laughter, a light sound that reverberates around the room. It’s the first time he’s heard Cas laugh. Which feels more significant than it should.

“You know I uh... I should probably get going.” He says, sitting up and brushing his hair back.

“Okay…” Cas hesitates. “Or you could stay the night… If you want to…”

Fucking hell he really wants to. But Sam...

“I want to but… I came to visit Sam and…” _But Sam’s always saying he wants you to be happy,_ a voice in his head reminds him. And right now what would make him happy is to stay here, defile Cas some more and then get a chance to see him all rumpled and cute in the morning. Crap he wants that so much more than he should.

“I understand.” Cas sits up and ducks his head down. “I’m not doing anything tomorrow… If maybe… You know, you’d like to..?”

Dean smiles and can’t resist the urge to press his lips to Cas’s again. “Yeah, I would like to. What time?”

“Like five maybe?”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay good.” Cas says, and lets his arms rest on Dean’s shoulders.

They kiss softly for another few minutes, and then Dean has to tear himself away, or he’s never gonna be able to walk out that door. Cas grumbles adorably when he pulls away, but when Dean gets out of bed and stands butt naked fishing around for his clothes on the floor he stops complaining.

“That’s sexual harassment you know, the way you’re staring at me right now.”

Cas colors slightly but shrugs and smiles. “You have very nice shoulders.”

Dean laughs at the compliment as he pulls his pants on. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

 

“Hey so funny story,” Sam says, pouncing on him the second he’s through the door, like a shark ready to strike. “I come home and my dear older brother is nowhere to be found, isn’t that strange?”

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious. I told you I was gonna be gone. And _dear_ older brother? What are you, Jane Austen? ” Dean shoves past Sam to get to the kitchen. “There any food?”

“There’s leftover pizza in the fridge.”

“Sweet!” He makes his way to the fridge, pulls the box out and puts it on the kitchen counter, opening it and taking a slice out. It’s cold of course, but still fucking heaven. He lets out a moan of appreciation and Sam, who’s stood across the kitchen looking on rolls his eyes.

“You can heat that up you know.”

“M’ good,” Dean mumbles, mouth stuffed full.

“Castiel didn’t feed you?” Sam says with and amused lilt in his voice. He opens the fridge and takes two beers out, then cracks one open and hands it to Dean.

Dean takes it and places it next to him on the counter. “No, he just wore me out.”

“Oh _gross_ Dean!”

Dean leers at him and takes another bite before washing it down with a swig of beer. He swallows it down and looks at Sam, trying to figure out how to broach the subject. What’s a good way to say _hey, I know I came here to visit you, but is it cool if I ditch you to spend the rest of the week having sex with a snarky english lit major?_

“So uh… Cas is… He’s really cool actually…” He starts. “And I would uh… Love to y’know, see him some more before I have to go back home, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m blowing you off… Since I came here to see you and all…”

Sam just looks at him, and weirdly seems to be fighting a smile. “So Cas is really cool huh?”

“Yeah uh... He is. Cool, funny, _weird_ , but in a good way.” And so fucking cute and sexy.”

Suddenly Sam’s face splits open into a wide smug smile. “ _Dude,_ ” he says. “You are _so_ screwed.”

Dean halts the pizza slice on the way to his mouth. “The hell are you talking about?”

There’s that signature eye roll again. “Oh come on Dean, you’ve gone all googly eyed and mushy over this guy already!”

Dean gives him an unimpressed stare, “I’m just having some fun man. I mean yeah, I like him, but there’s no point in getting invested, I’m leaving on Sunday.”

Sam hits him with a sceptical look. “I repeat, you are _so_ screwed.”

“Whatever.” Dean says rolling his eyes. “So you’re fine with me maybe not being around all that much?”

“Yeah Dean it’s fine. Honestly I couldn’t be happier about you actually doing something for yourself for once. Even if it is sleeping with one of my friends.” He hesitates before continuing. “You deserve good things you know.”

“Yeah yeah, I know.”

And Sam gives him a look with slightly raised eyebrows as if to say; _Do you?_

 

“So what kind of music do you like?”

Castiel runs his fingers through Dean’s hair. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Yeah well I’m trying to get to know you.” Dean replies, relaxing under his touch.

“Because you’re sleeping with me?”

“No, cause I find you interesting.”

“My parents played a lot of classical music when I was growing up, so I’ll always have a soft spot for it.”

Dean snorts. Figures. “Are your parents loaded?”

“Loaded?”

“Yeah as in rich.”

Cas’s fingers stop moving for a beat, “Oh I… I guess? I never thought about it very much but I suppose we’ve always been well off.”

It must be really nice to be so accustomed to having money that you’ve never had to think about it. Dean’s never experienced that, even when he was a kid he had to worry about stuff like that.

“So classical, what else?”

“Well my taste in music is… Eclectic I suppose, I wouldn’t say I favor one particular genre. There are rock songs I love, and pop songs, jazz songs and country songs. And I love opera as well. What about you?”

“Classic rock. Nothing like it.”

“So like Duran Duran?”

“That’s not even funny Cas.”

Cas shifts position, and pretty soon his lips are pressing against Dean’s.

“I think it’s a little funny,” He breathes.

Dean threads his fingers through Castiel’s hair. “Yeah you might be right.”

 

“Shit I’m really hungry.” Dean complains. “You got any food in here at all?”

“Um… Not really. I think I might have a bag of peanuts…”

Dean gets up and starts tugging his clothes back on. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat.”

He picks up Cas’s dark red sweater, about to toss it to him but then pauses as he feels the material in his hands. It’s _really_ soft.

“Is this cashmere?”

“Yes, why?”

Dean rolls his eyes, and tosses him the sweater. “You know any good places around here? Good _affordable_ places I mean.”

“I think so. What are you in the mood for?”

“Dunno, burgers maybe? Or pancakes.”

Cas looks at him like he’s outraged by this suggestion. “Pancakes are breakfast food.”

“Yeah well what can I say, I live on the edge.”

 

“So have you really never seen Rocky?” He asks, licking salt from his french fries off his fingers.

Cas tilts his head to the side. “Excuse me?”

Dean smiles at how prim and proper he sounds. “You know, _Rocky_? The movies? With Sylvester Stallone?”

No reaction. “I’m not familiar with them.”

“Yeah I figured.”

“How’s that?”

“Remember Ivan, your third husband?”

“The husband who’ll murder me for my non existing fortune?”

“Yeah, he’s a character from Rocky four.”

“There are four of these movies? They’re very popular I take it?”

“Yeah they’re very popular Cas. You are from this planet aren’t you?”

“I think so… Although my mother does describe seeing a blinding white light and then waking up in some kind of hospital room full of strange surgical instruments somewhere around the time of my conception, so I really can’t be sure.”

Dean stares for a moment before bursting out laughing. Cas responds with the biggest smile Dean has ever seen on his face, making cute little crinkles appear on his nose.

“I want to kiss you.”

Cas glances around them, clearly making sure the coast is clear. Luckily they’re in a pretty secluded booth.

“So do.”

Dean does.

“So what kind of movies do you like?” Dean asks when they’re both firmly settled back in their respective seats.

Cas gets this thoughtful look on his face. “Well I enjoy the works of Ingmar Bergman very much. Have you ever seen _The Seventh Seal_?”

Dean lets his face fall into his hands.

 

It’s past midnight.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Castiel asks.

“Uh… I dunno. I’ve always liked Goofy…”

He feels the vibrations of Cas’s laughter against his back. And then a hand lightly swats the back of his head.

“Not cartoons, _actual_ animals.”

“Fine, uh, I don’t know, seals maybe? Or penguins, they’re pretty cute. What’s yours?”

“Bees.”

“Aren’t they technically bugs?”

“Aren’t you technically an assbutt?”

“ _Assbutt_ ?!” He turns around to look at Cas. “That’s just _sad_. I could teach you some real insults you know.”

Cas just smiles and moves closer, until his face is hovering over Dean’s. “I like your nose.”

“Uh… Okay… I gotta be honest Cas, that’s one of the weirdest compliments I’ve ever gotten. But thanks.”

Cas touches the bridge of Dean’s nose with his index finger. “Why? You wouldn’t say that if I said you have nice eyes.”

“Yeah well noses aren’t eyes.”

“They’re both on your face.”

“Great point.”

“You do have very nice eyes as well. I like them too.”

“But not as much as my nose right?”

“I like them equally.”

“But if you _had_ to pick one or the other, which would it be?

“Why would I have to pick?”

“I dunno, to wear on a necklace or something.”

Cas wrinkles his nose adorably. “I don’t think I’d like them as much if they were separated from your face.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

 

The next morning it’s Thursday, and Dean wakes up in Cas’s bed, when Cas’s alarm goes off at six. Cas drags himself out of bed to get dressed, and Dean learns that Cas’s morning bedhead is maybe his favorite thing ever. Castiel goes off to class, and Dean takes himself back to Sam and Jess’s apartment to shower, change clothes and wait for Cas to get out of class. He does the dishes and cleans the apartment to busy himself.

He barely catches a glimpse off Sam, before he’s practically sprinting out the door to drive back to the campus. Sam, who seems weirdly smug about the whole thing. Weirdo.

And that day he learns that Cas really likes cats, but could never have one growing up because his mother is allergic. He learns that Cas has two older siblings, a brother and a sister. He learns that Cas writes poetry, poetry he claims isn’t very good. Oh and that for some reason, Cas really hates tulips.

 

And on Friday he learns that Castiel is named after the angel of Thursday, but not because his parents are very religious, they just liked the name. He learns that Cas has only ever slept with two people before, but didn’t have real feelings for either one of them. And he never went all the way. He learns that the only time Cas has kissed a woman was during a game of truth or dare. And he learns that not only has Cas never seen _Rocky_ , he’s never seen _Star Wars_!

 

He wakes up on Saturday, naked, wrapped around Castiel and tries desperately to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

“Morning.” He says, as he sees Cas’s eyes crack open, crazy blue and groggy.

“Hi.” He looks up at Dean for a moment and then his face splits open into a smile. He reaches up to put his hands on the sides of Dean’s face. “What do you want to do today?”

“Uh… I was actually thinking I should spend the day with Sam… I mean, I’ve barely seen him this whole trip and today’s my last full day so…”

“Oh.” The soft sleepiness drains from Cas’s face and he sits up, running his fingers through his hair. “I understand. Will I… Will I see you at all before you leave?”

“Yeah, I can stop by tomorrow. I don’t have to leave in the morning or anything.”

“Okay…” Cas says tugging the covers up and avoiding Dean’s eyes. “I guess… I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Dean gets out of bed to put his clothes on, and then leans in to press a kiss to Cas’s lips. Cas sighs and his fingernails softly rake against the skin on the back of Dean’s neck.

“See you tomorrow.” Dean says as he goes out the door.

“You know where I’ll be.”

 

Sam looks genuinely happy when Dean suggests they spend the day just relaxing together, which makes Dean feel guilty about the fact that he can’t stop thinking about Castiel. How fucking graceful his fingers are. How he makes Dean feel like there’s a fire burning under his skin, and the only way to put it out is to get closer. How he throws really fucking expensive sweaters on the floor without a second thought. How Dean feels like he could kiss him for like a billion fucking years and never get tired of it. How he’s gonna date, kiss and sleep with someone else after Dean fucks off back to Lawrence tomorrow. How that person better not be fucking _Balthazar._

“Dean did you hear what I just said?”

“Huh?”

Sam gives him this exasperated look, but ultimately doesn’t look angry. “So that’s a no then.”

“Look Sammy I’m sorry, I’m just really-”

“Distracted?” Sam finishes, that small smug smile appearing on his face again.

Dean shoots him an annoyed look. “Yeah distracted.”

Sam gives him this calculating look. “He’s a nice person you know, Castiel. I mean he can be kind of... But he clearly likes you, and you like him so maybe this doesn’t have to be the end.”

“Sam don’t.”

“Fine. But just let me say this; he’d be lucky to have you.

Dean makes an attempt at a smile, but he’s pretty sure it comes out looking sad. “Thanks Sammy.”

Sam looks at him for a moment and then lets out a sigh of resignation. “Just go.”

“What?”

“Go. This _clearly_ isn’t where you want to be.”

“Sammy come on, I’m sorry, I really want to be here I swear, I just spaced out a little.”

“Dean it’s fine, I know you want to be here, but you’re still not _here._ So just go. Have fun or whatever.”

Dean’t torn between how much he wants to go, and how guilty he feels about ditching Sam _again._ Sam seems to sense his inner struggle. “ _Go!_ Seriously I have work to do anyway.”

So Dean goes. He resists the urge to run toward the door like a kid being let out of school early on a Friday.

He gets in his baby and drives towards the campus with lots of feelings warring inside him. As he races toward Cas’s dorm he realises that he has no idea if Cas will actually be there. He doesn’t know what Cas would normally do on a Saturday.

He knocks, and taps his fingers against his leg while he waits.

The first thing he notices when he opens the door are the silk leopard printed pajama pants Cas is wearing. The second thing is the surprised look on his face, which quickly morphs into a radiant smile.

“Hey,” Dean says, feeling a similar smile stretch across his own face. “So I came back... Nice pants.”

“Oh, thank you, they were a gift from my brother who thinks he’s funny.”

Dean opens his mouth to respond but suddenly Cas is pulling him inside the room, and he’s got arms wrapped around him and lips bearing down on his own insistently. So he stops trying to formulate sentences and just goes with it. And really, Dean couldn’t be a bigger fan of the pants, cause turns out they’re super easy to take off.

 

“You’re really beautiful.” He says, for some weird reason.

If he talks during sex it’s usually dirty talk, he doesn’t say weird shit like _you’re really beautiful_. But Cas is really beautiful. Seconds away from an impending orgasm, completely at Dean’s mercy as he jacks him towards the finish line.

 _“Dean_ , _oh God I_ -” And then he comes all over Dean’s hand.

And then slumps to the side completely useless. And Dean’s too impatient and horny to wait for him to recover, so he finishes himself off.

“You really think I’m beautiful?” Cas says after they’ve had a chance to catch their breath.

“Yeah.” Dean replies, because it’s the truth.

“So are you.”

Cas cleans them up, and the way he does it, running a wet rag over Dean’s stomach is almost… _Reverent_. And makes Dean feel way more emotional than he’s comfortable showing.

So he lies on his back, with his head on Cas’s pillow, looking up at the ceiling. Cas is almost plastered to his side, his hand lightly tracing patterns into the skin on Dean’s chest.

“Stay.”

Dean’s whole body goes taut. He scrambles to sit up. “ _What_?”

He looks at Castiel who just about flinches at Dean’s incredulous tone.

But he doesn’t look away. “I… Stay. Don’t go back Kansas.” He moves closer and hesitantly reaches up to place his right hand against Dean’s cheek. “Stay here.”

Dean gapes at him, completely speechless. Which is fine, because apparently Castiel’s not done.

“I’m in love with you.”

Dean just stares at him. He shakes his head, trying to shake something loose. Or trying to shake himself back to reality.

Castiel moves closer, and Dean can very clearly see that his eyes are shiny with unspilled tears.

“I’m in love with you, and I don’t want you to go.” He says, and his voice is shaking.

He leans forward, putting his forehead against Dean’s. “Stay.” He repeats.

“I-” Dean says, struggling to find his voice again. His heart is practically beating out of his chest.

“Please say yes.” Cas whispers.

Dean pulls back and looks at him. Looks into pleading, tear filled blue eyes and _fuck_. Sam was right, he’s _so_ screwed.

“Yes.”

 

It’s about four in the morning and Dean is completely strung out. Strung out on Cas. Cas, whose lips are completely red and puffy from how much they’ve been kissing. Cas, who’s fucking crazy enough to tell someone he loves them after knowing them less than a week.

“We should go to sleep.” Cas whispers, letting his lips graze Dean’s again.

“I don’t want to go to sleep.” Dean mumbles, even as the sleepiness forces his eyes shut again.

“Why?”

“Cause then I have to wake up tomorrow and actually think about shit.”

Like how he’s somehow agreed to upend his entire life. How the hell he’s gonna tell his dad he’s not coming back. And how he needs to call Bobby and officially quit his job. He needs to tell Sam too, but he has a sneaky feeling that Sam somehow saw this coming. Oh and of course he needs to find a new job, and a new apartment. _Holy fuck what has he done?_  

Castiel’s voice drowns out his thoughts, making his rising panic ebb. He’s reciting some kind of poem or something, in a low, thrumming voice.

 

_When winter passed, she came again,_

_And her song released the sudden spring,_

_Like rising lark, and falling rain,_

_And melting water bubbling._

_He saw the elven-flowers spring_

_About her feet, and healed again_

_He longed by her to dance and sing_

_Upon the ground untroubling_

 

“What is that?” Dean asks, as Cas’s fingers card through his hair. He closes his eyes.

“It’s the Song of Beren and Lúthien.”

“S’ pretty.”

Cas _hmm_ s softly in agreement, and continues.

 

_Again she flew but swift he came_

_Tinuviel! Tinuviel!_

_He called her by her elvish name;_

_And there she halted listening_

_One moment stood she, and a spell_

_His voice laid on her; Beren came_

_And doom fell on Tinuviel_

_That in his arms lay glistening_

 

Dean wakes up the next morning, Cas still sleeping beside him, and despite everything, he’s not sure if he’s ever felt more at peace.

He watches him sleep, just for a little bit, which is creepy, but Cas is really cute when he’s asleep. About forty minutes after Dean wakes up, Cas stirs.

“It’s Sunday.” He mumbles in a voice thick with sleep, blinking sleepily up at Dean.

“Yeah it is.”

There’s a moment of silence as Cas looks up at him, with something like apprehension shining in his eyes.

“And you’re not leaving. Right?”

Dean gets it. The need to confirm that it wasn’t all some crazy whim, that he’s not going to go back on his word in the harsh light of day. “No.”

_No, he’s not leaving._

He relishes in the way Cas’s eye light up at that one word, and in the sleepy, happy smile that stretches across his face.

Dean drops his head down into the pillow and groans.

“What is it?”

“Ugh I just… _How the hell_ did we get here so fast? It’s fucking _insane_ how much I want you.”

He lifts his head up and Cas is smiling at him. He brings his hands up to the back of Dean’s neck, something raw and fragile shining in his eyes.

“Have me then.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So this is probably the fastest I've ever written anything, but it felt so good, like I was just so inspired I had to get this story out. And if anyone's wondering why Dean doesn't say I love you back at the end, I just felt like he wouldn't be ready yet, but moving to another city for someone is a pretty big commitment, so I think it evens out.  
> I'm having major title problems with this series (if you couldn't tell, untitled is literally in the title), which is annoying, and was never a problem with my last series. So I tried to come up with a title for this, and accidentally wrote a poem, and Like The Tide is one of the lines in it. I'll probably post it, when I get a chance. I always want some kind of through line with the titles in a series, so I guess I've settled on some kind of vague nature theme. Is the title terrible? Actually don't tell me.  
> Okay so next up, I think I'm gonna do their first fight, cause I love that DRAMA.  
> If you have any thoughts, tell me in the comments. Thank you for reading, love and blessings to all!  
> Oh, and it's meant to take place in 1987, if anyone was confused by that.


End file.
